Honor Bound
by FeatherLove2020
Summary: A re-telling of the Origins story line. Some AU sprinkled throughout. Evelyn Cousland's family has been destroyed by Arl Howe. Will her desire for justice harden her towards the world? Or will she be able to let herself love someone again. Blood, language, intimacy (possibly in later chapters).
1. Chapter 1

**I've been wanting to write my own retelling of the Origins storyline for quite some time now. So here I am jumping in to actually publishing content on this site. Goodness knows I've read plenty of everyone else's wonderful works. Sooooo...I hope you enjoy it! I might have some smut show up in later chapters. Not sure yet though… M rating just in case though. Cheers!**

 **Chapter 1**

Evelyn Cousland stood staring out the narrow window in her bedroom. Sunset was already beginning to paint the castle with shades of fire. Down below she could see the what few people remained in the castle scurrying about their duties, all trying to finish before night fell. Not a few hours earlier her older brother, Fergus, had taken the bulk of her father's forces south to the Hinterlands. Rumors had been swirling throughout Ferelden that another Blight was descending. The sighting of more and more Darkspawn only seemed to give the rumors credit. King Cailan had set up his forces in the ruins of Ostagar to rout the monsters before they spread to the rest of the country.

Evelyn suddenly caught a glimpse of her father, Teryn Bryce Cousland, as he quickly crossed the courtyard. He had been planning to leave with her brother and their men. However, their companion forces from Amaranthine, under the command of Arl Rendon Howe, were to be delayed several days. Howe had come ahead of his men to give the news to the Teryn. With a grand battle seeming inevitable the Teryn did not want to waste time, and sent his son off ahead of him. The Arl thought it best if he stayed behind and waited for his troops, then he and Cousland would leave together. A frustrated sigh escaped Evelyn's lips. She had pleaded and begged her father to go with Fergus. Yet, despite her protests his answer remained a firm no. He insisted that he didn't have so many children that he would see them all off to war and besides her mother wouldn't have it. She felt that he was just becoming more stubborn in his old age. Grey had claimed victory over most of his hair, and deep set creases formed from years of equal parts of worry and joy adorned his face. She had to agree, albeit reluctantly, that he was partially right. Her mother, though she could take down any man that tried to harm her, would need help keeping the castle in order and safe. Although Evelyn couldn't fathom who would _dare_ attack a Teryn's castle. Anyone who did would need a tremendous amount of troops, and those who did would be committing political suicide. No, there couldn't possibly be anyone that irresponsible.

Soft snuffling and a wet caress of her hand pulled her from her reverie . Looking down she was met with the dark and knowing eyes of her Mabari hound, Duke. His large, muscular torso and strong jaws filled with teeth was enough to send anyone running. However, she had found a gentle and deeply intelligent soul in the war dog. He may have been bred for battle, but he was also a damn good snuggler.

"What? You can't be hungry again. You ate at _least_ fifteen rats a short while ago!"she teased. Her playful harassing was met with a head tilt and a whine. Feeling in high spirits, Evelyn decided to push her torment just a little further. "You're just lucky you didn't get into the roast like Nan suspected you did. Pretty sure we would have been eating _you_ for dinner."

This proved to be too much and Duke bolted under the bed. Laughing under her breath Evelyn knelt down to peer into the dog's refuge. "Alright, I'm sorry. Come on out. It's time for bed anyway."

Only a high mournful sound came through the darkness. How he managed to get himself tucked so far under the bed that he disappeared was nothing short of astounding. There was only one way to get him out now. She prepped her best sing-song voice and sweetly offered, "I'll let you sleep on the bed tonight."

Duke came thundering out of the bed, barking loudly in elation. "Alright! Alright! Keep it down!" Evelyn laughed. "You'll have the whole castle complaining about the noise again!"

The sky had now turn a tranquil shade of violet, and most noises in the castle had ceased. She turned to take in the rest of her room. It wasn't a large space, but then she had never needed much. To her mother's disappointment she hadn't taken an interest in clothing and jewelry. Her heart lay with the clanging of steel and she took comfort from the weight of a shield in her hard. Truly it was no easy feat appeasing Teryna Eleanor Cousland, but with an agreement to add a vanity to her room Evelyn did just that. She walked over to it now, sat down and began to remove her armor.

She took notes mentally as she removed and inspected each piece. One or two scratches or dings weren't concerning, eventually they did add up though. Her greaves were looking particularly haggard and would need seeing to, her struggle with blocking low swings was obvious. Finally down to her undershirt she moved her armor to the chest next to the vanity. Settling herself again on the seat she unbound her hair and looked at her reflection. She had never considered herself particularly pretty. She was not unattractive by any stretch of the imagination, but she didn't feel she was anything to write home about. Truth be told, she looked mostly like her mother, though the Teryna managed a graceful air on her face at all times, something Evelyn was abominably bad at. Her nose was...average, straight with a slight upturn at the tip. Her lips were full but did not pout, as seemed to be the thing all fashionable lips should do. Her best, and truthfully her favorite feature, was her eyes. They were a stunning green ringed with brown and dusted with flecks of orange. Her father had told her once that they reminded him of a forest caught fire. Perhaps that's why she liked them so much. Her appearance was finished off with a smattering of freckles across her face and a mass of dark curling hair. Perhaps her biggest struggle, facially anyway, was that whenever her face was relaxed people thought she was angry. Many times people had been afraid to approach her for fear of her rage. The only option was to keep a smirk on her face and open her eyes in feigned surprise all the time. But that was just a silly notion. No, better to accept stormy face and just carry on.

A great yawn took her by surprise, so she quickly plaited her hair and walked over to her bed. She flung herself down with a purposeful lack of grace and let loose a heavy sigh. Duke sauntered over and put his head on the edge of the bed. Taking the hint Evelyn wiggled her way up to her pillow and under the blankets. The bed shifted with Dukes great weight as he climbed up, turned around three times, and curled up in the blanket.

"Good night, you big oaf," she murmured. Her lids were already heavy and it wasn't long before sleep embraced her.

 _A voice was calling to her. "Evelyn! Evelyn!" Who was it? Low, gentle, baritone, and very familiar. She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned around. A man was in front of her, smiling with reddish hair and clad in similar color armor. Of course, Ser Gilmore, that's who was calling._

 _She grinned at her old friend, "Well don't you seem happy! Come on, don't hold back, what's happened?"_

 _"Do you remember that Grey Warden that was here, speaking to your father? He came to me and he asked me to join them! I'm being recruited into the Grey Wardens!" His grey eyes practically sparkled with excitement._

 _She thought back. There was a Grey Warden here? Ah, yes, when she was trying to convince her father to let her go with Fergus. She had spoken to him briefly. Dark hair, pulled back, a dagger and a sword on his back, a rogue? A dark shape moved out the corner of her eye, she turned. Nothing._

 _"Hey!" Ser Gilmore barked making her jump. "Say something."_

 _"I'm really really-" Another shadow moved, she turned again. Too slow. Something was wrong. She looked at her surroundings. Where ever she looked, things refused to come into focus. Where was she?_

 _"I thought you'd be happy for me," her friend sighed. "I know it means I'll have to leave, but you can't have expected me to stay here forever."_

 _"Never mind that, something is wrong! Can't you feel it?" Another shadow darted. "There! You can't tell me you didn't see that!"_

 _"Why are you just standing there!?"_

 _"What are you -" A sword was in her hands, hers? Dozens of shadows streaked past, and they were...shouting. Shouting was coming from everywhere._

 _Ser Gilmore grabbed her shoulders, "There's no time! We need to run! They're coming! We have to -" The blade of a sword thrust out from his chest, silencing him. Her sword fell from her hand. She opened her mouth to scream but no sound was there. She turned, tried to run, legs are so slow, like trying to run through mud. A drum started to pound in the distance. Boom...boom...boom...Boom...BOOM!_

Evelyn sat up with a start in her bed. _Just a dream.._ she told herself. But the drum was still pounding. Duke was at her bedroom door, barking furiously. No, not a drum, someone at the door. Flinging the covers off she tumbled out of bed and rushed to the door, heedless of how cold the stone floor was under her bare feet. She flung open the door and one of the serving elves stood there, bloodied and eyes wide with terror.

"Mistress! They're attacking the castle! You have to -" Two arrows suddenly lodged themselves in the elf's neck and he toppled. Evelyn looked out into the hallway to see three heavily armored men.

"There she is! Gut her!" one of them bellowed.

She slammed the door shut and turned to her war dog."Duke, I need you told hold them off while I get my armor on. Think you can do that?" A savage bark gave her her answer. Plunging at the chest next to her vanity Evelyn frantically began putting on her amour. Hard bangs were coming through her door. They were going to break it in at any moment. She turned her back to it to put her chest piece on and heard the sound of breaking wood and an angry mabari snarl. A symphony of cries and whimpers accompanied her as she put on her bracers. Fully armored she grabbed her sword and shield and turned to face her attackers. Duke had made short work of them, however. Evelyn carefully stepped over the mangled bodies in her doorway. "We have to get to mother. Let's go." She raced down the hall with Duke at her side.

Upon entering the hall to her parents room, several more armed attackers were met. Not wanting to give them the advantage Evelyn sounded the charge with a yell. Duke immediately launched himself at the nearest man's throat, knocking him to the ground. Despite her rage, Evelyn fought to keep herself calm. It was better to fight patiently and wait for an opening than to slash wildly and hope for the best. After several minutes all men lay slain. Suddenly the door to her parents' room burst open.

"Darling! Thank the Maker!" Teryna Eleanor Cousland breathed. "Have you seen your father? He didn't come to bed."

"We need to go look for him. Can you fight mother?"

"I'm no Orlesian wallflower! I can still hold my own."

Evelyn smiled. Even now, with her hair a mess from waking up suddenly and fear tinting her eyes, her mother still managed to look regal and beautiful. Looking down at the men she had killed, she noticed the crest they wore on their armor. These were Howe's men.

"Mother! Do you see? These men have Howe's crest on their armor!"

"Maker's breath! You don't think his men were delayed...on purpose? That traitorous bastard! I'll cut his lying throat myself! We have to go now, you're father is undoubtedly in danger. I know him, he'll be at the front gates. Let's go."

"And if he's not there?" questioned Evelyn.

"Then we make for the servant's passage in the kitchen larder. I doubt Howe or his men would know about it."

Making their way down to the front of the castle proved intensely difficult. Howe's men were everywhere. Each time they took out a group another one took it's place. Worse yet, they had come across the bodies of Fergus' wife and son as well as a visiting friend of her mother's. Lady Landra was the wife of another noble in Ferelden, Bann Loren. Howe was going to have trouble with more than just the Couslands after this. Fires had been set to block their escape making them backtrack and waste precious time. Evelyn fought with everything she had, her sweat mixed with the ash in the air leaving dark streaks across her face. Her now unbound hair flung wildly around her with each swing of her sword. She looked every bit like a crazed animal fight for it's life. She found herself pinned between two warriors. While she fought to keep one off of her the other aimed low and struck hard. One of the already damaged greaves split in two and hung uselessly against her leg. Rearing back for another blow the soldier smiled mercilessly. A sickening thud was heard as an arrow lodged itself in the man's forehead. Turning her head Evelyn saw her mother picking off loners as best she could with her bow. She launched another arrow at the final soldier pinning her daughter. She struck him in the knee, but it was just enough for Evelyn to strike the killing blow. With another group down Eleanor ran to her daughter.

"Shit," Evelyn spat. "Shit. Shit. Shit." She ripped off her destroyed greave and threw it.

"We're close to the armory. There's armor and weapons there we can use. Our family sword should be particularly useful," Eleanor panted.

"Why is it enchanted or something?"

"No, I just want to use to sever Howe's head from his body."

Looking shocked, Evelyn barked a laugh and then nodded. She knew her mother was tough, she had never seen the true strength she had.

Fighting carefully they pushed through to the armory. Using Eleanor's key they gained access to the vault. Inside the family armor and arms lay waiting. Evelyn quickly switched out her armor and abandoned her old sword and shield. She felt proud to be wearing the Cousland arms. They made her feel...like they may actually survive the night. Her mother had grabbed a more suitable bow and as many arrows as she could fit in her quiver. There was no time to stop though. A few more groups of fighters were met and defeated. It was clear though that the group was tiring. Even Duke with his seemingly endless fighting energy began to look bedraggled. At last the main hall was reached. Surely they would find her father there.

Inside they were only met with more fighting and a frantic looking Ser Gilmore. Evelyn's dream came rushing back. The shadows, the shouts, the sword through his chest. She shook her head violently, reminding herself to focus on now. One by one they cut through their the last one fell Ser Gilmore ran to the two women.

"You're both alive! Thank the Maker!" he practically wheezed. Evelyn absently wondered how long he had been fighting.

"Teryn Cousland, have you seen him? I thought he'd be here!" her mother cried.

"He said that he was heading to the servant's passage in the kitchen larder and would wait for you there. You both should go, now. I'll hold the gates. That should give you enough time."

"No! I can't let you do this!" Evelyn shouted "You can come with us. We'll all get out"

Ser Gilmore smiled sadly at her, then turned his back and readied his sword. Her mother pulled at her arm pleading, "Please, there's no time. They'll buy us time. We have to go!"

Feeling like she was leaving part of her heart in that room Evelyn ran out the door. Outside she furiously scrubbed the tears from her eyes, hoping her mother would not notice. Her mother warmly put a hand on her shoulder, "Darling I'm sorry"

"Let's just go." she stated flatly, and marched off toward the kitchen. This time, she was glad to see soldiers charging at her. With a cry that was half scream and half sob she met their attack. There was no finesse to her fighting any longer. Frustration and rage had bubbled up and she swung her sword sporadically. Ser Gilmore's face kept flashing in front of her. It wasn't fair. She'd known him for what seemed like forever. He was supposed to go on to do great things. Now he was going to die, for nothing. A few of the assailants fell to her flailings, but she had left herself too open and was quickly surrounded. Realizing her predicament too late she dropped to her knees, the last of her resolve trickling away. It was too much, and she was too tired. One of the soldiers in front of her grinned smugly and glided toward her. He was clearly certain of his victory and wanted to savor the moment. His confidence was interrupted as Duke's hulking form slammed into him, sending him crashing to the floor. The beast made short work of his prey and wasted no time before lunging at the next one. Stunned, the rest of the soldiers staggered back, unsure of their next move. Seeing her war dog's tenacity and devotion to her safety re-kindled the embers of purpose deep in her heart. She rose up on one knee and spun toward the sound of approaching footsteps. Instead of the circle of soldiers that had surrounded her, they had made way for someone else. What approached her now was an enormous mountain of a man, fully armored and wielding an equally massive axe. Evelyn frantically looked past the goliath, her eyes scanning for her mother. Her search was cut short by a huge axe whistling through the air towards her. With a gasp she lifted her shield just in time to catch the blade in it. She was a strong woman, but it was all she could do to keep the man at bay. It was clear her adversary was unconcerned at her attempt to block him. She could tell he wasn't putting his full weight behind his strength yet her muscles were already beginning to weaken. The axe was inching closer and closer to her face. Her arm shook with the effort. All at once the man pulled back his weapon and she shot forward. She lost her grip on her shield from the sudden release of pressure and it skittered far across the stone pavement. The axe whistled through the air again, Evelyn looked up and tried to jump back as it came crashing down in front of her face.

Half the world exploded into red and then darkness, and a sharp throbbing pain engulfed her head. She moved her hand to her face and found it covered in a warm, sticky liquid. Someone that sounded like her mother was shouting her name. Two quick thuds sounded and were answered by the clattering of armor. She was vaguely aware of herself screaming. Soft hands cradled her face, hands that could only belong to one person.

"Mother...mother...Maker's breath he hit my eye! I can't see, mother! Oh...Andraste's tits this hurts! How bad is it?"

With an impossibly calm voice, Eleanor did her best to comfort her daughter. "I won't lie to you darling. It looks very bad. I doubt there's anything left to call an eye. You're going to have quite the scar too. It could have been so much worse though. It seems just the right eye was hit though. How's your left? Can you open it?"

It was at that moment Evelyn realized she had been squeezing shut her left eye. She peeled her lids open gingerly. A wave of relief flooded her as she realized her vision was clear. "I can see. My eye is just fine," she sighed.

"Well at least you're not completely blinded," Eleanor replied warmly. "We need to move now though. We're just outside the kitchens. If we run we can make it before more of Howe's men show up."

At what point they had made it to the kitchens was lost on Evelyn. It seemed they had fought countless waves of soldiers in neverending corridors. Signaling her mother to wait she bolted, unsteadily due to her change in vision, towards her shield. Snatching it off the ground she rejoined her mother and headed for the kitchen. A collective sigh was breathed from them upon entry. None of Howe's men seemed to be present. Evelyn spotted a folded rag on the counter. Since it seemed clean enough she picked it up and wrapped it around her head, covering her wounded eye. Eleanor occupied herself with shutting the kitchen door behind them after confirming they weren't followed. With the room and Evelyn's bandage secured they pushed open the door to the larder.

The worst of their fears were confirmed as they beheld the Teryn curled up on the floor, struggling to breath and rapidly losing blood. "Ah...there...you both are. I was wondering...when you'd find me," he gasped, struggling with every word. His wife cried out his name and ran to his side.

"Maker's blood! You're wounded! How did this happen?!" exclaimed Eleanor.

"Howe's men found me first. Almost...did me in right there."

It was proving all too much for much for Evelyn. She had just seen her father this evening, and now, suddenly she was watching his life fade away. It was a burden she simply could not bear. Through her choking throat she uttered, "We need to get you out of here father."

"I don't think I would survive the standing. Oh Maker...what happened to your eye?!"

"Nevermind my eye! Don't talk like this is the end! You'll be fine!"

"Ah, pup. If only will...could make it so."

Eleanor chimed in, "Someone needs to go and reach Fergus. He needs to know what Howe has done."

"We'll all go! We'll tell him together!" Evelyn practically screamed.

All attention was suddenly on the sound of the kitchen door opening. The two women readied their weapons in a heartbeat and braced for an attack. Instead what came through the door was a tall man, raven-haired and looking serious. His clothing, a distinctive mix of armor and robe, was spattered with gore. "I'm afraid the Teryn is right. We were trying to reach you two when Howe's men fell on us. I was able to help fight them off, though I fear not soon enough."

"You are...Duncan then? The Grey Warden?" Eleanor guessed.

"I am, my lady."

Bryce Cousland's breaths were becoming more labored now. He raised his eyes to the Warden, face burdened with desperation. "Duncan...please...get my wife and daughter out of here."

"I will your grace. But I fear I must ask something of you in return.

"Anything!"

"I came here in search of a Grey Warden recruit, and the darkspawn threat requires that I leave with one. I will take your wife and daughter to Ostagar. Afterwards, your daughter will join the Grey Wardens."

"I...I understand," Bryce conceded.

Evelyn's head swam. He couldn't be serious. She wasn't meant to be a Warden. No, that was supposed to be Ser Gilmore...who was now dead. Everything was changing too quickly. "No! I still believe we can get father out! There's enough of us here now. We could easily carry him." Her voice rose higher with each sentence, panic gripping her with its numbing claws.

Duncan shook his head sadly. "The castle is surrounded. Getting two of you out will be a nearly impossible task to begin with, nevermind carrying an injured man. It would certainly kill all of us. Then who would reach your brother?" He turned his head, his face pained at putting this decision to her. "Believe me, my lady. I wish there were some other way."

She had always been told she was a stubborn creature with a temper to match. It was much easier to stubbornly hold your ground when you were furious at the opposition. Duncan's sorrowful gaze had made her willpower crumble. As cold reality settled on her a loud crash sounded in the distance.

"They've broken through the gates!" Eleanor cried.

"Then we need to move quickly," replied Duncan and turned again to Evelyn. "What say you then?"

There was nothing to do but surrender to her circumstances. She opened her mouth but found that words failed her. Instead she nodded and hung her head in resignation. She fought to hold back her tears. Partly because she believed a warrior shouldn't cry, but mostly because she was sure tears would just make her now defunct eye hurt even more.

"Darling, go with Duncan," her mother interjected, startling Evelyn out of her misery. "You'll have a better chance of escaping if I'm not with you."

"Eleanor…"Bryce breathed. "You can't…"

"Hush Bryce," she soothed. "I'll kill every last bastard that comes through that door to buy them time. I will not abandon you. Evelyn, go. Find your brother. Bring justice to that bastard Howe. Make him pay for what he's done."

"Mother, please!" wailed Evelyn. She could hear shouting outside now. It was still distant, but quickly drawing nearer. There was now time left to argue. Duncan grabbed her arm and started to pull her up. As she rose, she heard her parents quietly comfort each other.

"I'm so sorry my love," her father whimpered.

"We had a good life. It's up to our children now," Eleanor sweetly whispered back.

Duncan was pulling her towards the exit. "I am sorry. We need to go now," he pleaded. It was no use now. The tears came unbidden, trailing in heavy rivulets down her left cheek and burning and drenching her freshly wounded right eye. "I...I love you both! So much!" she sobbed. She turned and heard her mother gently call back, "Goodbye, my darling." The shouting had reached a fever pitch outside now. Her heart was aching, her eye was screaming, and grief threatened to end her if she stayed. Gathering what little strength she had left, she entered the servant's passage, closed the door behind her, and ran.

 **If you made it this far thanks for reading! Honestly can't remember the last time I wrote anything. -_- Super rusty at it. Hope you liked it though! More to come.**


	2. Chapter 2

_**I changed the title of the story because...well I didn't really like it. And there seemed to be many others with similar names. I'm horrible at giving things titles. I promise I won't change it a million times.**_

 **Chapter 2**

Night's ebon cloak was already giving way to the murky grey of early morning when Evelyn and Duncan emerged from the servants' exit. They found themselves among a small collection of shabby houses, neatly tucked away in a clump of trees. Was this where most of their servants lived? Somehow she hadn't imagined...this. Most buildings were made of greying lumber that was cracking and bowing in several places. It was a wonder the structures didn't collapse. Each winter had to be a gamble for these people. She told herself that she should inform her father about these atrocious conditions immediately. But then, she remembered. There would be no telling him anything, ever again. She had known other people that had lost loved ones in their lives. They always carried on after a time and seemed to be happy. Moving on and forgetting her parents was an impossible task. How could she ever feel _anything_ other than an empty hole in her heart?

A soft whine reached her ears followed by the feel of a solid and furry mass bumping her hand. Glancing down it dawned on her that she hadn't even noticed her dog join them as they ran from the castle. She stroked his head and smiled weakly at him. At least Duncan didn't try to stop him from coming along. The distinct sound of a sword being sheathed made her jerk her head up. The Grey Warden was walking toward her. When had he left? Were all wardens this sneaky?

"There are no sign of Howe's men in this area," he sighed "We are quite fortunate."

"Then...there may still be time! We can run back now and…" she trailed off. There was no time and she knew it. Duncan's heavy hand settled on her shoulder. "I understand this is hard for you, and you will have time to grieve."

Green eyes met brown and she gaped at his words. Truly this man was a mystery. One moment he was harsh, logical, and skating very close to arrogance. The next, he was calm, soothing and almost paternal. Deep down she wanted to believe that somehow this was all his fault. Yet perhaps she was being too harsh.

"The time for your grief is not now though. We must be swift," he stated flatly. She glared at his back has he strode off. Clearly she had no idea who this man was. Letting loose an exasperated sigh she trotted to catch up with him, Duke trailing at her heels.

The sun had yet to reach its highest point that day when suddenly the sky turned dark and threatening. "Of course, it would rain. How fitting!" she muttered sardonically at the sky. They had been walking for hours through the rough terrain and the lack of sleep and food was beginning to take its toll on her. The trio had not encountered a soul the entire time, which was both a good and a bad thing. Ostagar was several days journey even on horseback, walking that distance would be utterly absurd. The battle would be over before they arrived. Fergus would be gone, moved on to some other battle to be sure. How long would she have to chase him? More likely she would be dragged off to do whatever the Wardens told her to do. It wasn't certain that Duncan would actually let her find her brother. Taking the rogue's trustworthiness on blind faith just seemed like a bad idea.

Her travelling companion stopped abruptly and waved back at her to get down and be quiet. This was nothing new. Any sign of danger triggered this routine. She and Duke would find cover and stay hidden. They still weren't far enough away from the castle that she wouldn't be recognized. Just how many men Arl Howe had in his pocket was hard to say. While the odds favored he had secured just enough to usurp the Couslands, it did not pay to take chances. Evelyn spotted a large rock nearby and flattened herself against it, listening intently.

Voices could be heard in the distance. Too faint to be sure, but they didn't sound like soldiers. There had been several false alarms over the past hours. A few random animals, completely uninterested in who they were and what they were doing, but no people. She heard Duncan call out a greeting to the voices. They were closer now, one man and one woman. Why would the Warden be drawing attention to himself? Maybe he meant to make them think he was harmless and then take them by surprise? Her hand moved, as if it had its own desires, to her sword hilt and gripped it firmly. Duke sensed her agitation and crouched into a ready position.

"Katie! You can come out now!" Duncan shouted. Katie? Could he be calling for her? A small spark of anger flared deep in her. Of course, he wouldn't actually remember her name. She was nothing to him but a means to an end. Whatever that end may be. So, he thought she was called Katie. Fine. She would be "Katie" for now. Later she'd let him know that she was not a pawn in his game. Standing up from her hiding place she put on her sweetest voice and called back to him. "I'll be right there!"

A moment later she had joined up with Duncan, her dog close at her heels. With the Warden were a haggard looking well aged couple. There was nothing particularly remarkable about them. Their clothes were well worn yet clean. Touches of silver graced both of their heads in scattered patches. It was their hands and faces that betrayed the true struggles in their lives. Weathered, brown, and full of creases they spoke of decades of hard labor and years of worry and stress. Just behind them stood a cart pulled by a yoke of oxen almost overflowing with boxes, barrels and packages. As she looked over the scene, a faint nicker sounded from behind the cart. Her heart skipped a beat.

"Oh ma dear, that wound truly do look as bad as ya' friend here said. Would ya mind if I had a look?" Evelyn hadn't even noticed the woman had been speaking to her. The possibility of even just one horse being there was enough to excite her. When the woman's hands made contact with her face she started and a small squeak escaped her lips.

"Oh my! Sorry ta' frighten dearie. You must'a seen quite a fight ta' look at ya. I imagine I would be a bit jumpy meself. No, don' ya worry none. Ya just let ol' Sarah have a look," the woman soothed. She had a soft and gentle voice, and Evelyn couldn't help but wonder if she was a grandmother. She certainly had the demeanor for it. It _had_ been quite awhile since anyone had looked at her eye. Leaving it unattended was practically inviting infection in. Sighing slightly, Evelyn nodded and leaned forward slightly for Sarah.

With a surprising deftness the woman carefully began removing the kitchen rag from around her head. Parts of the fabric had stuck to her skin from the bleeding. When pulled upon new waves of pain shot up along her face. She couldn't help but inhale sharply and softly grunt.

A few tense minutes later and the makeshift bandage was separated from her. This time it was Sarah's turn to inhale sharply. "That there is an ugly wound ta' be sure."

The statement did little to improve Evelyn's mood. Her frustration must have showed on her face because Sarah quickly spoke up. "Now, now ya just come with me ta the cart. I'll getcha cleaned right up. I might also have just the thing to cover ya eye. Bound ta' be much better than that ol' rag. Come along now," she said and gently pulled her towards the cart.

Evelyn turned her head to look at Duncan, but the Warden was deep in conversation with Sarah's husband, clearly unconcerned for her safety. Although, in all honesty, what could one feeble old woman do? Sighing, she surrendered and followed Sarah. At the back of the cart her prediction of horses was proven correct. Two chestnut stallions stood tethered, patiently nibbling on the abundant grass on the roadside. "Now, let me see," Sarah muttered to herself, "I know I put it somewheres. Aha!" She pulled a small box out from neat stack of random items. Upon opening it various herbs, tinctures, and cloth revealed themselves. Removing the latter two Sarah doused a bit of cloth in a strong smelling liquid. She lifted it to Evelyn's ruined eye, "I won' lie ta' ya dearie. This will hurt...a lot. Brace ya'self." Taking a deep breath, Evelyn held it and prepared for the worst.

It did indeed hurt. Her cheek and eye area felt as if the flesh were being slowly peeled from her face. Despite her best efforts, she let out her breath in rush and began to pant heavily. Small squeaks left her throat as Sarah wiped away the old blood. No doubt the old woman was being as gentle as she could, regardless of what it _felt_ like. After what seemed like an eternity Sarah quickly breathed, "There, there, all over now. Much better. Bear up dearie. Ya' did well."

The stinging was quickly subsiding and she had to admit that the area did feel substantially better. Sarah was back searching through the back of the cart, this time rifling through a large leather sack. It appeared to be full of many kinds of leather armor. Just what kind of merchants where these two? Uttering a quiet noise of triumph the old lady pulled a small piece of dark leather out. "Come here dearie," she coaxed. Quickly she put some herbs and a few drops of liquid from another tincture onto the leather piece. Beckoning Evelyn to bend down she place the leather in one swift motion over her eye. "Tie this around ya' head. Mind it doesn't tangle ya' hair now."

"It's...it's eyepatch," Evelyn stuttered.

"Why yes dearie!" Sarah laughed. It was a deep and melodious sound. "Whatever did ya' think it was?"

Strangely, Evelyn found herself smiling. This woman was a mother to her core. The sadness of losing her parents was still there, yet somehow Sarah's presence was soothing. Her thoughts were interrupted by Duncan and Sarah's husband rounding the back of the cart. "Ah, that is quite an improvement. Fine work," Duncan said in approval.

"Well, ya' tend to pick skills up when ya' travel as much as we do," Sarah replied. Evelyn thought she caught a hint of blush on the woman's face.

Sarah's husband chuckled, "Well, we'll let ya' get on ya' way there sir. Before me wife blushes her way inta the ground."

"Thomas!" Sarah barked, sharply smacking him in the arm. "That doesn' even make sense. Silly man," She was doing her best to sound outraged, but her attempt was thwarted by her grin.

Chuckling Thomas gestured to the horses. "I'll help ya' get them saddled. Ya' be wanting ta' get farther before sundown and that's not far off."

"You...you bought us horses?" Evelyn gaped at Duncan.

"Indeed. We have far to go. Walking the entire way would be absurd," the Warden replied.

"Yes, I had the same thought," she added hesitantly. Duncan only nodded and walked towards the horses.

"Good luck ta' ya' dearie!" Sarah interjected. "Now, ya' should only need those herbs on for a few hours. Come nightfall ya' can take 'em off. Be sure ta' leave the patch off at night. Let that wound get some air. Ya' might make it worse if ya' sleep with it on."

"Thank you," Evelyn said smiling. "Really, I mean it."

"Just be sure ta' dodge better in the future dearie."

Moments later the horses were saddled and she and Duncan had mounted them. A few more farewells were exchanged between them and the couple and they headed south. The better part of an hour passed until Evelyn spoke up. "Why did you call me Katie in front of them?" she asked.

"Would you have them know who you were? True, it is unlikely Howe would have spies so wide spread. It is more likely he would be sure of no one escaping. Even so we must be cautious."

"Oh, I suppose that does make sense," she replied thoughtfully. "Wait! What about my armor? It has the Cousland crest all over it. Wouldn't that be kind of huge signal?"

"It would be, yes. I watched them as you approached. If they had been looking for you or intended you harm we would have seen some reaction. As I perceived nothing of the sort from them I felt it wise to continue our negotiations."

"And…" she hesitated, afraid of the answer. "What if they had reacted badly?"

"I'm afraid things may not have ended so amicably."

The rogue hung his head slightly as he said this. Evelyn did her best to mask her shock. They were just two old travelling merchants. Would they really have cut them down on the side of the road? The realization that this possibility was likely struck her hard. There had to be a better way. Sure, the world seemed to be against her, and she needed to survive, but that couldn't mean she needed to wipe out old people because of what they _might_ say. Perhaps Duncan had grown cold in his long years of fighting. She told herself that she would need to make sure the same didn't happen to her.

She let her thoughts drift lazily as they rode on. There truly wasn't much to discuss between them. Eventually, time painted the sky and terrain in the vibrant colors of twilight again. The birds began to cease their songs and a quiet hush began to settle around them. Duncan steered them towards a large tree nearby. Dismounting he wordlessly began unpacking his horse. Apparently Thomas and Sarah had thrown more than just horses into the deal. Evelyn climbed off her own mount and found a blanket roll and some bread and cheese tied up behind her saddle. In her thoughts she had forgotten how hungry she was. Unceremoniously she scarfed down some of the food. She thought she heard Duncan chuckle as she nearly choked. Ignoring him, she found a spot near the tree that seemed mostly flat and devoid of rocks and unrolled her bed. Duke, who had been faithfully keeping stride with the horses, scratched up himself a soft pile of dirt and flopped down into it. In relief she laid herself down as well. Night's darkness was already creeping in. Laying on her back she stared up at the sky and watched the stars begin to appear. She felt herself drifting and untied her eyepatch. She shook the herbs out onto the ground and folded the leather, placing it next to her. Her eye almost felt normal, aside from the fact she couldn't see a thing out of it. Relaxing once again she absently marveled at how time had ceased to stop because of what had happened. The day had come and gone heedless of her heartache. Maybe that's how people had been able to get past their grief. You either found a way to move on or the world would leave you behind. A faint snoring sounded off to her left. Duncan was already asleep nearby. As she listened to the rhythmic breathing and thought about how best to move beyond her pain, sleep overtook her.

 _ **A bit of a shorter chapter this time. I always wondered what kind of things happened on the road to Ostagar. I mean...it's a long way on the map. At least a couple days. Fear not they'll be there very soon. Our dear former Templar is coming very soon!**_


End file.
